(Present and future) Distractions
by Melitot Proud Eye
Summary: "A foot knocks on his leg. It pushes, making him almost drop his book." Kings, too, need to play sometimes. - PART 10 OF A SERIES [Thunderfrost] Tags: Established Relationship, Childhood Memories, Humor, Shapeshifting, Poor Loki, King Thor, King Loki, Thor being Thor, Silly, Magic, Post-Thor: The Dark World, Love, Kings being immature just for the sake of playing


**Notes**: PART 10 OF THE SERIES _By watchfires and thrones of crowned kings_.  
>Just some fluffy silliness! Written (a couple years ago) for the prompt 'flame'.<br>So sorry to have put the series on hold for so long! Now that I've completed the part on which I worked for two years (and which will begin after this fic), I can finally go back to translating. It's time-consuming, not to mention more difficult without a beta, so I can't promise regular updates, but I'll do my best, truly :) At least it seems this year will be a better year for writing than 2014. Last year I just couldn't seem to get into the groove.  
>Anyway, I hope you like this short instalment! :D<p>

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**(Present and future) distractions**

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After all this time, reading is still his favourite activity. It's better than magic, which thrills and amuses him but does not relax him, and even better than making mischief, which by now has lost (a bit of) its charm. Before he's aware of it Loki has got a serene, little blue flame swaying gently on the tip of an index, bright in the afternoon glow.

"Hah", Thor exclaims from the nearest armchair. "You still do it!"

He's not laughing, but Loki waves his hand and disperses the fire. "I was distracted."

"No, do it again, please."

Loki lifts his eyes from his book. "It's a stupid trick. A potentially dangerous trick."

"With you here to do damage control?" Thor smiles, putting the scroll he was consulting on his knees. He's beaming. "Come on. It's been forever since I saw it last."

"Every little girl possessing a scrap of magic practices like this."

It's one of the many things he gave to Asgard; one of his first, innocent inventions.

"But no one creates that colour."

Loki sighs. "Don't you have work to do?"

The big idiot's face is unrepentant. "It can wait. You're more interesting."

"I don't doubt it."

And he makes to go back to his poem. The scroll for law modifications waves in the air.

"Come on... I'm bored, Lock."

Alright, Thor wants to play. They're alone in their private parlor and he always refuses to act the king, even when he drags royal work along with him. He looks like a happy retriever. Loki has to hide a grin.

"Loki."

A foot knocks on his leg. It pushes, making him almost drop his book.

"Lookii."

"Oh, Thor" he says, exasperated. "Here."

He raises a hand, points his index finger toward the ceiling and, with an air of great sufferance, blows over it. A flame lights again on the tip. "Happy now?"

And how. It's like a meteor has fallen into the dolt's hands. And the Norns help him, Loki knows that he's about to doom himself, but he too has things he cannot resist. Slowly, he spreads his other fingers and creates will-o'-the-wisps for each pad. Then he shakes them as if they were a fan.

Stretched in the armchair, Thor slides a foot around his ankle. His face is split by a smile.

"How I loved it when you did it as a child," he confesses. "I never told you, but I was terribly envious."

Loki raises his eyebrows. "Truly?"

"Truly."

"_Tremendously_ envious."

Through the slipper, Thor curls his toes against Loki's calf. "Unbearably" he says, with a grin that's almost a grimace.

Loki could think of one thousand and one recriminations to ruin the moment, but the past is the past and it has hurt them enough. It is not in anger and revenge that he's here, reading in front of the fire like a country bride. Slowly, he smiles.

"And this, do you remember this?"

He closes his hand in the shape of a wedge, as if he wanted to feed Munin, and swallows the flames. He breathes deeply, suppressing the sneeze reflex, and blows them through his nose in a single stream, creating the illusion of smoke with magic.

Thor slaps his own thigh. "Hah! The cave dragon! "

"Very well. And this?"

Drawing on the memory of a thousand times a thousand nights of horror stories, told among the shadows cast by candlelight in the space under their bed, Loki closes his eyes and lets _seiðr_ reshape his face. His bones change, his skin stretches. In a moment he's got a hag's hooked nose, bilgesnipe horns, the eternal curls of Fandral's father and an old slipper of Frigga's for a hat (the original lost since who knows how long). Thor takes a look, goggles at him and – even before Loki has raised his hands to growl – he bursts into uproarious laughter.

"Ah, Norns, the cider thieves' Fury! I'd forgotten! And how often we pissed ourselves out of fear, in the night... after guzzling the cider, of course..."

Loki chuckles with him, returning to normal. "Such language, your majesty."

"Oh, don't pester me. Think of what would have happened if a squire had come in while you were busy shapeshifting." He gives a little push to Loki's other leg with his heel, wiping cheeks wet with tears. His eyes are shining. "Think of Radulf coming in. By Odin's beard, we must arrange a nice surprise for him. "

"Thor" says Loki, disbelieving, shaking his head. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

"When it comes to tormenting that damned nitpicker, no, I don't."

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>Oh, Loki already loved him when he was a harebrained troublemaker. Now that he is a conscientious troublemaker, Loki adores him.<p>

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I'd love to hear your thoughts on this :)


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